On September 20th, a letter inside a corked glass bottle was found floating in the open ocean by a school of hippogriffs. The letter was dated January 14. The hippogriffs held onto the letter, certain that its writer would be dead after so many months.
Almost a year later, a bundle of waterproof tarp bound by hemp was found several miles to the south. Inside was a battered journal, written by the same author. Though there was some water damage, the writing of both was still legible. The following are the contents of the letter and the journal.
January 14
If you’re reading this and your name’s not Rainbow Dash, make sure this gets to her. If you don’t know who Rainbow Dash is, fuck off.
Dash,
I don’t know how I’m gonna get this to you, but I’m okay for now. The boat back to Griffonstone sank in a storm (fucking dumbass Earth ponies can’t navigate for shit). The lifeboat got washed overboard with me in it, and I think I’m only one alive.
I was able to grab some stuff from the wreckage floating around that might be useful, but I’m gonna be screwed if I’m stuck out here in this boat. There’s food and water on board, but I don’t know how long that’s gonna last me. They also had a pen and this blank journal in here.
I’ll try to write down as much as I can. A little black box for this fucking disaster if nothing else. If I don’t make it back home, at least whoever finds my body will have an idea of how it all went down.
Anyways, I hope to see you soon. If I get a better idea of where I am, I’ll rip out another page and use another one of these bottles.
-Gilda
January 18
I’m starting to run low on food and water. Took off and flew some circles around the boat, but I can’t see land anywhere. At least it’s a lot warmer than it was a few days ago. Warm enough to take off my coat even. Sea’s a lot calmer too, but it still feels like I’m moving.
Wherever this tub is taking me, it better be to land or seaponies. Grandpa Gruff sometimes told stories from his navy days about what happened to griffons who drank seawater. Fuck it, if I run out of bottled water and there’s still no land, I might just do it. It’d kill me faster than dehydration.
Dash, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry that I left Ponyville the way I did, and I’m sorry for how I treated your friends. Figures I was too proud to ever apologize, and now it’s too late to do in person.
-Gilda
January? February? Whatever, I lost track. Let’s call this Day 1
Well fuck me sideways, guess I wrote too soon! I was down to my last biscuit and water bottle, but when the sun came up today there was an island on the horizon. Looks like a fairly big one too.
I’ve pulled the boat up on the beach and unpacked as much as I could. What’s weird is that this is a tropical island, and my boat was taking me through icy cold water in the dead of winter. Course, I’m not gonna look a gift pony in the mouth (no offense). It’s nice and warm, so my winter gear’s probably useless here.
I didn’t waste any time getting set up. Found some rocks around the beach that I was able to put together to make a big “HELP” in the sand. Right now, I just gotta figure out if there’s anything here I can eat. I heard a waterfall when I flew inland a ways, so water shouldn’t be an issue. Lots of wildlife sounds too, so hopefully they’ll be edible too.
Never had to do wilderness survival before. Junior Flyers taught us some camping stuff, and I hope it comes back to me fast. Else I’ll be screwed, just more slowly than if I was still on the ocean.
That’s all for now. I have work to do before the sun sets.
-Gilda
Day 4
Just checking in since it’s been a while. I found the waterfall later on the first day. It empties into a fairly deep pool of water. Made sure to fill up all the empty water bottles from the boat. There’s lots of coconuts (typical), and a bunch of other colorful fruits and berries all over. I’m gonna stick with the stuff that looks familiar for now. Taste testing the other stuff can come later.
I haven’t explored all of the island just yet, but I did find some caves in the side of a cliff along one side of the island. Isn’t too hard for me to get in there, so if nobody’s home, it might be useful for when it rains.
That reminds me. The weather’s been really nice the past few days. Sunny, warm, slightly humid, but I don’t mind a little sweat. You’d think there was a team of pegasi up there managing the weather for me, but that’s stupid. Besides, I’d have seen somepony up there if there was.
The crap I learned back in Junior Flyers is starting to come back to me. Though I suck at building stuff, I was able to put together a basic shelter from some branches and the tarp I grabbed out of the water after the sinking. The lifeboat had plenty of blankets too, so that helps.
The first couple nights were pretty damn cold, but not freezing. Took me til yesterday to figure out how to get a fire going. I’ve got a permanent fire pit and a cooking spit in front of my shelter now. Tomorrow I’ll see if I can sharpen some of these rocks to make some tools, and try hunting or fishing. Fruit’s good and all, but a griffon’s gotta have her protein.
-Gilda
Day 17
Hey, so it’s been a couple weeks. Think I’m starting to get the hang of this “roughing it,” as our flight leader would call it. Was able to fix up my shelter so it’s a bit sturdier. I also even managed to catch a fish! Too bad I burnt it on the spit, but oh well.
For the first week or so I really missed my phone. It went down with the ship, and not being able to check social media fucking sucked. Learning how to stay alive helped keep me busy through the withdrawal, thankfully.
I also learned that as cool as my high top sneakers are, they suck ass for walking over rough terrain. The soles are worn out and I blew out a heel while trying to explore further into the jungle. My socks are full of holes too. Whatever, most of the terrain isn’t TOO soft around here, so I ditched them. Going barefoot was uncomfortable for a couple of days, but my paw pads have toughened up enough that I don’t even notice anymore.
Speaking of uncomfortable, wearing long pants in warm tropical weather was starting to chafe. I used the flint knife I made to cut them down to shorts. Clothes are getting kinda crinkly from the sea salt by the beach, but I don’t wanna try to wash them off in the same place I drink from.
What’s weird is just how fast I’ve picked up on this survival stuff. Everything I learned at Junior Flyers came back to me in just a couple days, even though that was years ago. Now I’m figuring stuff out that I was never taught, like making these tools. When I look at plants or animals I know I’ve never seen before, I somehow know what they are and how I can use them.
I’m gonna go get some more fish. I saw some crabs in the shallows earlier, so I’m gonna have a sweet dinner tonight!
-Gilda
Day 22
I’m starting to think there’s something off about this island. Sometimes late at night, while I’m laying in my makeshift bed, I’ll hear whispering. At first I thought that it was the surf on the beach or the wind, but the more I listen to it, the more it sounds like speech. If it is whispering, I can’t make out what the words are.
I’m also having wet dreams. These past several mornings I’ve woken up with my hand down my underwear and soaking wet. I can’t remember what the dreams are about, but whatever they are must be really fucking hot.
Now that I mention it, I’ve been getting hornier in general lately too. Sure, I’d hook up now and again back in Griffonstone, but I’ve been feeling the urge to get off a lot more often. Not only am I (apparently) masturbating in my sleep, but a good three times a day I’m having to stop what I’m doing to rub one out. Guess it doesn’t matter. It’s not like anyone else is here.
Yeah yeah, that’s probably TMI for anyone reading this, but I don’t fucking care.
Day 30 (I think?)
Haven’t been keeping track of the days as closely as I probably should be, but I THINK it’s been about a month since I got to this island. I moved all my stuff into the caves a couple weeks ago. There wasn’t anything dangerous inside, so it’ll be a lot easier to keep a fire going, and I’ll have more room for a bigger bed. I made one on the floor with some palm fronds.
I’ve been taking baths in the waterfall and swimming around in the pool. Of course, I make sure to get my water from the top of the falls now. It kinda sucks not having any shampoo or conditioner, so I still smell the BO on myself. Again though, nobody else is here to smell me, so it doesn’t really matter. Actually, I think I kinda like it.
Memories from back home are starting to get cloudier. Probably should be more upset about that than I actually am. For some reason I don’t feel too torn up about it. Then again, Griffonstone kinda sucks. This buzzing sensation in my head’s starting to bug me, though.
Also, I’ve noticed that my tits have gotten really sensitive. I’ve had to stop wearing my bra because of how uncomfortable it’s gotten. I don’t think my nipples have ever been this hard and for so long, and this shirt’s doing nothing to hide them. Actually, that’s kinda hot.
Alright, I better go check the fire pit. I’ve got a nice fat iguana roasting right now, and writing is making me hungry.
-Gilda
Day 35, give or take
You pervs are gonna love this. I’ve only been getting hornier as the days go by. Maybe it’s boredom, but I’m starting to wonder if it has something to do with those dreams and that whispering. Either way, I’m up to six seshes a day now, and that’s the average. Think my record is closer to nine, but I kinda lose count after awhile.
Okay, know what? Writing about this is turning me on. Any fuckers reading this are getting the details. My pussy has been getting wetter, even when I’m not flicking the bean. I’ve started to squirt when I cum too. Was feeling extra naughty so I did it out on the beach last time. Shot my girlcum across the sand a few feet. Then I kept going and did it a bunch more times.
My tits are just as sensitive as ever. I’ve caught myself playing with them a lot of times, and it just feels too good. It might be my horny imagination, but they feel fuller and heavier too. I’ve cut up my shirt and bra to use in other things. Having the tropical air fondling me feels so much nicer than if I kept wearing that salty, stained mess.
Okay, never in a million years would I have thought I’d be writing porn of myself in a journal and HOPING someone else would read it. I guess being alone for too long does weird things to your head? Anyways, I gotta go take care of this mess I made.
-Gilda
Day 50/60/70?
One day, after I’d finished bathing, I looked at my shorts and underwear laying on the rock and I passed them by. It just feels right, not to mention all they do is get in the way of pleasuring myself. I’ve since collected them for scrap fabric.
I’ve noticed more physical changes. My boobs are definitely getting bigger, as are my nipples, which are long and puffy. The rings around them are wider. I’ve noticed more of a cushion in my butt too, and my hips have grown soft. With all the exploring, swimming, hunting and gathering I do, I’ve built up a fair bit of lean muscle.
Of course, my ever increasing sex drive has been the one constant. It thankfully does not interfere with my daily life too much, and I have plenty of time in the day for fun as it is.
Just a few days ago I was fondling my breasts. I suddenly felt a wetness over my fingers. Looking down, I saw beads of milk dripping from my nipples. I have been lactating almost constantly since then, and the volume has only increased.
It’s been surreal (I think that’s the right word for it) to go back through all of the pages before this one. While they are clearly in my handwriting, and my name is signed on the end, it’s almost as if they were written by a completely different person. I see mention of a place called “Griffonstone,” but I struggle to remember what life there was like.
There is someone I do remember. Rainbow Dash, my old friend. She appears in my dreams from time to time. Would she recognize the beautiful, lustful griffon I have become? Perhaps some day she will find me? Then we can - *The handwriting is smeared and illegible for the remainder of the page*
*Undated entry*
It has been years, it seems. Or has it been months? I neither know nor care. I found this forgotten journal, and decided once again to write in it.
This morning, I went to the beach and picked up the rocks I had arranged into a message so long ago. The griffon who laid them hoped to be rescued. I do not know where that griffon went, but she is no longer here.
I gather flowers from the forest now. I keep one of them in my hair, and I weave a few more of them into a necklace. They do not last long, but they make me feel beautiful. I also enjoy switching out the colors as I replace them. I spent several minutes admiring myself in the reflection of the pool after putting on my latest set. It’s strange to think the Gilda who first washed ashore wouldn’t care less about looking or feeling pretty.
My breasts are both easily larger than my head, and heavy with milk. They are large enough for me to nurse from myself, and I do so often. Liquid arousal trickles down my legs most of the time, and my labia and clitoris protrude from my sex
It took me far too long to learn to understand the spirit of this island. But it never gave up calling to me in the night, until one night I answered. I know now that the island was lonely. It needed a companion. My arousal and my milk nourish its soil and stone, and in turn it provides for me.
But pleasuring myself does not bring the thrill that it once did. It may have been enough for the griffon I used to be, but I have desires an inanimate island cannot satisfy. I need another person. Another pony, griffon, dragon, anycreature with whom to share my lust.
I have decided I will release this journal into the sea. I built a raft just for this purpose, and I will wrap it in a tarp before I release it into the current. With the island’s blessing, I hope someone will find it, and then come to find me. Perhaps the mare I dream about, or perhaps one of her friends may find it?
Reader, I urge you. Join me in Paradise.
Stay with me.
Come home.
Gratefully yours,
Gilda
The letter and journal were turned over to the Equestrian government for investigation. In a joint statement, the Royal Diarchy and the provisional government of Griffonstone confirmed the loss of a small passenger schooner in the time and place noted. The Royal Geographical Survey issued a separate statement that it would be physically impossible for a lifeboat to travel from an arctic to a tropical biome in the amount of time noted, and its occupant certainly would not survive without outside assistance. In a separate statement, Princess of Friendship Twilight Sparkle insisted she was unable to find the island described in the writings on her enchanted map, and has condemned the writings as a cruel, pornographic hoax. Wonderbolt performer Rainbow Dash, who is mentioned repeatedly in the writings, has declined to comment.
Author's Note
Probably not the most respectable of writing debuts on this site. Regardless, hope you folks enjoy some anthro griffon smut.
